


Winter Turns to Spring

by AmazingGraceless



Category: Beauty and the Beast (2017), Cinderella (2015), Descendants (Disney Movies), Fantasia (1940), Fantasia 2000 (1999)
Genre: AU, Audrey and others have had their names changed, Gen, High Fantasy, The live action versions are each kids parents, because they’re stupid in this setting, but it’s a good ride, or at least everyone that existed by this point (so pre Aladdin)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:54:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29565015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmazingGraceless/pseuds/AmazingGraceless
Summary: After the live-action films of the Disney Universe, all appears to be Happily Ever After. But not all is happy in the kingdoms far far away. There is a curse, a blessing, a princess, a charming prince or two, forgiveness, a fight between good and evil, and true love. All great stories begin with once upon a time. Our story starts with happily ever after. . .
Relationships: Ben/Mal (Disney: Descendants)





	1. Days in the Sun

Mal awoke on the ground. Not an uncommon event. She often awoke on the ground these days. She had been traveling for three days from Bald Mountain deep within the Moors and still had another day's travel required to reach her target.

What had her confused as she slowly rose to her feet was her dream. It had been the third night in which she dreamed of castle gardens and a prince. Why did she feel so warm, so _good_ when she heard the prince speak? She could not remember what he had said, but she remembered the sound of his voice. It made her inexplicably happy.

 _You have a mission,_ she reminded herself as she dusted off her purple _cloak. There are other worlds. They can be yours. You can wield unspeakable power. It all starts by crashing the prince's birthday ball._

The young fairy walked along the dirt path as she pondered her future. The woods did not scare her despite being all alone, perhaps because she was more scary than any forest she had been in.

The sky turned pink and orange with the dawn, and some small, soft part of Mal could not help but find it beautiful.

* * *

Prince Ben strolled through the kitchen, following Lumiere behind closely and watching carefully. He knew it was important to understand the inner workings of the castle if he was to be a good king. Watching the servants reminded him of the time his mother opened up a clock to show him how it worked. Like the clock, the castle only functioned due to the complex relationships within it and the teamwork of all parts. Virtues Ben had learned to treasure above all else.

"Ah, yes, let us go this way-"

"What is that way?" Ben asked, peering at the section of the kitchen Lumiere was steering him away from.

"Your birthday surprises, Your Highness," Lumiere said, shaking his head. "You are like your mother-very curious. It is a good quality, but not always. Come along, Your Highness."

"Of course, Lumiere," Ben said respectfully. His sixteenth birthday loomed nearer every day. Ben had chosen to take on the responsibility of running his birthday gala this year. This would be the year suitors would start coming. From the village, from other kingdoms, maybe even from within the castle, there would be young ladies competing for his hand.

Ben sighed. All the talk of courtship must have been getting to his head, for the previous night he had dreamed of a girl with violet hair in the gardens with him. Her image haunted him. For some reason even attempting to remember the fleeting of her image gave him a warm feeling he did not understand.

Still, he felt as though the dream was a clock and it was missing a cog-the cog that would help Ben understand it. He had tried to get the dream out of his head all morning, yet had failed.

He shook his head. He could think about this more. _Later_. Now, however, he needed to go with Lumiere to check on the ballroom decorations and remind Madame de Garderobe of the color scheme he had chosen.

* * *

Adam paced the length of the library, the flames jumping higher to match his agitation. Belle sat on the edge of her armchair, head in her hands.

"I cannot believe that they went off by themselves to confront whatever is in the Moors," Belle said. "What are they thinking?"

"Don't look at me!" Adam cried. "I just know that it's a bad idea to enter the fairyland."

"I'm not even sure that Queen Aurora has much faith in the expedition," Belle continued, glancing at the letter on the table beside her. "Princess Talia is coming to stay with us until Phillip returns."

"At least she will arrive on time for Ben's birthday ball," Adam said. He then sighed, and resumed his pacing. Belle sighed as well and picked up the letter. Her hazel eyes scanned the document for more information.

"It gets worse," Belle continued. "Remember the fairy in the Moors?"

"I've heard of her," Adam said. "She cursed Queen Aurora, if the tale is true."

"Her daughter's missing," Belle said reproachfully. "I can't imagine. . . If Guinevere was missing, or Ben. . . We have to help."

"Our castle is open to all who need it," Adam reminded Belle, his steely blue eyes as gentle as Belle remembered. "That fairy's daughter will find us, most likely. And we can search for her. But we must be here for our son's birthday. Besides, the girl's a fairy, yes? I think the fairies can do just fine on their own."

"And I think there's a girl that's probably scared out of her mind!' Belle shouted, rising to her feet. She stiffened, hesitating. "But you are right. It doesn't do our kingdom much good if I go myself. But we will assign a task force."

"Most definitely," Adam agreed. He couldn't help but admire his queen's heart. "Write back to Queen Aurora that we will help. And we will be overjoyed to take Princess Talia. It would be nice for Ben to see a childhood friend at his party."

"Indeed," Belle agreed. Her memories drifted back to the little princess playing with her son in the rose gardens while Belle and Adam discussed regal matters with Aurora and Phillip over tea. So much in her world was changing, but at least some things were the same.

* * *

"Your highness!"

Ben whirled around to see Lumiere approaching.

" _Oui_ , Monsieur Lumiere?" he asked.

"Princess Evangeline of Valoram and Borealis has arrived," Lumiere told him.

Ben nodded. "Thank you, Lumiere, I'll go right away."

Lumiere smiled and nodded back, then hurried away. Ben straightened his jacket, and hurried himself along to the entry hall of the castle. He dodged servants carrying the princess's luggage, and saw the princess standing in the center of it all, looking around in wonder at the splendor of the castle.

Ben had to admit the rumors about Princess Evangeline were very true. Her hair was blue-black and flowed like an ocean's. Her skin was a fair brown, and her lips were full and red as blood. She wore a becoming yellow gown with a blood red traveling cloak over it. She was as beautiful as the star she was named for.

He approached, and took her hand, kissing it. She smiled brightly.

"Welcome, your highness," he said. "I only hope you'll enjoy your stay."

"I think I will, Prince Benedict," she said with a flirtatious grin, and effortlessly flipped her blue-black curls. "Thank you for inviting me to this party. I wish you many happy returns and pray this will be a start of a long friendship."

"As do I," he said. "Do you need an escort to your room?"

"Why, yes, and I have never been to this castle before," she admitted. "Could you perhaps spare time to show me around?"

"Of course."

Ben had to admit that the princess was very good company. She was witty and bold, which made conversation easy. She was very fascinated with the architecture of the palace, and Ben couldn't help but smile and listened, impressed by her knowledge.

Of course, this led his mind to other thoughts. He was coming of age soon. That meant marriage loomed ahead soon. His father did not get married until he was twenty-one, and he knew his parents wanted him to marry for love, but it still was to be a priority soon, if only for the sake of Auradon.

A young woman like Princess Evangeline would make a very good queen to his people. Knowledge, wit, and courage were considered great virtues by his people. A woman of status would have an idea of the inner workings a castle required, and a kingdom. She was even beloved by her own people, from what he heard. And no wonder, for she did take after her mother, the Fairest of Them All.

"I'd like to go to my room now."

Pulled back to his guest, Ben turned. Evangeline's voice was tight, like a bowstring about to snap.

"Alright," he said, forcing himself to remain charming and smiling. "You must be tired from your journey. You're in the South Wing of the castle."

* * *

After escorting Evangeline to her room, Ben tended to party business for two hours, until at last, tea time was upon him. His pace slowed a bit more with relief. He entered the library, and spotted his mother's tea table in her favorite nook, where sun shone through beautiful stained glass windows his father had commissioned for their fifth anniversary.

She closed her book, and smiled as he seated himself with her. Ben poured her a cup first, then for himself, and offered the sugar and cream and so on. Time with his mother became more precious in days like these.

"How is the party?" Belle asked.

"At least three new crises popped up today," Ben admitted. "But I was able to resolve all but one and the remaining ones from yesterday. At least there's only a week left. I might actually be able to sleep then."

"I'll ask Mrs. Potts to brew you a sleeping tea this evening." Belle said with a frown. "I'll admit, what you're doing is impressive."

"Thank you, Maman," Ben said. "How have you been?"

"Writing and reading letters from the foreign embassies," she said, and she took a sip. "Rather boring, I'm afraid. This tea is spectacular, Chip's outdone himself."

"He has," Ben agreed. "Almost as good as Mrs. Potts. I'll have to drop by the kitchens again and tell him that."

He turned to check the clock, and suddenly rose.

"What's wrong?" Belle asked.

"Princess Talia's about to arrive, and I need to greet her," Ben said, and he checked himself over. "Sorry, Maman, to cut this short."

"No, I understand," Belle said with a sad smile. "Besides, we can talk over dinner, _oui_?"

" _Oui_ ," Ben agreed. He then turned and ran out of the library and down the stairs. He slowed at the grand entrance, and walked more regally. While he had known Talia as a child, she was notoriously difficult to impress. Talia was standing in the same spot Evangeline had stood in earlier, and was bossing the servants about in how to carry her luggage. She spotted a full pink gown meant to dazzle and impress, and her tiara was prominent against her dark hair. Her violet eyes glimmered mysteriously.

"Prince Ben," she said, her voice cool and rhythmic, like a babbling brook. "I am delighted to hear of your sixteenth ball. I am even more delighted that you let me take part in this event."

"My pleasure, your highness," he said, and he kissed her gloved hand. She smiled. "Would you like an escort-"

"No thank you, I remember this old place well enough," she assured him. She then brushed past him, leaving him very confused.

Ben exited out to the impressive rose gardens his father and Guinevere often helped the servants tend. He enjoyed them as well, especially the red roses. He was more of a bookworm, like Belle. Still, the fresh air seemed to be needed with all the time stuck indoors planning the party and greeting the guests.

He made his way to a hidden gazebo, and sat there, basking in the sunlight. He realized, after a moment, he was being watched.

His eyes flashed open. No one was there. He rose to his feet, assuming a more princely stance.

"Hello, is anyone there?" he asked.

He heard only a rustling of the rose bush in reply.

"Is anyone there?"

His heart pounded as he saw a pair of glowing green eyes in the rose bush. Then, out of it, in a black cloak, stood a small, slight figure. All he could see under the cloak were the glowing green eyes.

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Ben asked cautiously.

"I-" the green eyes blinked. Then they dimmed to nothing. The figure threw back the hood to reveal a girl's pale, heart-shaped face and violet hair. The girl was a fairy. Her green-gold eyes looked around in a panic. Then the girl looked to him. Her lips parted to speak. Then she collapsed.


	2. A Wicked Fairy

Ben caught her before she hit the ground. Carrying her in his arms, he hurried for an entrance to the castle, any entrance, he needed to get her to Mrs. Potts-she'd know what to do. Several servants and nobles in the gardens looked to him in alarm as he rushed past. He ran down to the side door that would enter the kitchens. He dodged around the servants carrying in greens from the more practical gardens surrounding the castle. He carried the fairy girl into the tea room.

Despite the situation, Ben felt at peace almost instantly with the scent of tea steeping. Mrs. Potts sat in a comfy armchair by the stove, watching pots of tea boil. Upon hearing his footsteps, she looked away, and arose in horror, her motherly instincts kicking in as he approached with the fairy girl in his arms.

"Alright now, set her down gently," Mrs. Potts said, and Ben did so on the loveseat in the small lounge set up to go with the tea brewing. Mrs. Potts placed her warm, soft hand on the girl's forehead, and then took a pulse. Ben watched, impatient for the verdict.

"Poor thing," Mrs. Potts said as she tucked a lilac strand away from the fairy's heart-shaped face. "Exhaustion. I don't think she's eaten all day, and by the look of that cloak, she's been traveling for quite some time. I'll have something brewed up for her in a moment."

"Thank you, Mrs. Potts," Ben said gratefully. "So she'll recover?"

"Probably before nightfall," she assured him. "Why don't you sit down and I'll brew you a cup. Then you can tell me all about the party plans. And you can wait for her to wake up."

"That's not necessary, I had to leave Maman's tea early to receive Princess Talia, I really must-"

"It's not a request," Mrs. Potts informed him cheerfully.

Reluctantly, Ben sat down and accepted the mug Mrs. Potts handed him. She sat back down, and they began to talk.

* * *

Princess Evangeline was relieved to be in her room. Her first course of action was to lock the door. She then hung up her travel cloak and picked up her carpetbag on the nightstand. She scavenged through it for her magic hand mirror. Upon gripping the cool silver handle with elaborate designs, she raised it, and spoke clearly, albeit quietly.

"Magic mirror in my hand, show me the fairest in all the land," she said. Snow White appeared in the mirror. She was sewing by the window, it appeared, looking off into the mountains, the ones that bordered the Feyrelands and the Moors and Auradon. The Fairest had only gotten lovelier with age, and Evangeline smiled affectionately at her mother.

Snow White and Florian, after all, had taken her in when no one else would have, knowing who her mother was. Evangeline owed what was about to happen to them. Prince Benedict's sixteenth birthday gala was the perfect debut for a princess of age, like herself. It was time a prince saw what she was truly made of. She didn't care if it was Prince Benedict of Auradon or Prince James of Gordaina or even Prince Aziz of Agrabah. She would dazzle a prince and get her happy ending.

"Magic Mirror in my room, that is all, come again soon," she said. She placed the mirror facedown on the table and stood. She needed to get ready for the welcoming feast.

* * *

The first thing Mal smelled was lots of boiling tea. For the first time in days, she felt actually warm, and safe. She was coming to, yet she pulled her knees up to her chest, burrowing further into her cloak. A few moments of peace would be nice.

Still, her lips felt unbearably dry and her stomach rumbled like an earthquake. She opened her eyes, and she saw the face of the prince she'd dreamed of before. Startled, she sat up quickly, giving her a pounding headache and throwing her completely off balance. The prince reached out a hand on her shoulder to steady her. She couldn't help but feel a sort of warm, fuzzy feeling upon recognizing her as the prince of her dreams.

She then sat up straight, leaning away from him. She had to be strong, ruthless. That's all that was in her heart. Right?

An elderly woman smiled at her and thrust a steaming cup of tea into her hands.

"Where am I, exactly?" she asked, all-too innocently.

"You're in Auradon, in the castle of King Adam and Queen Belle," the prince said, leaning forward, his eyes intent on her face. She felt as if his steely-blue gaze was penetrating her, reading her thoughts. But he can't. I doubt he has that kind of magic.

Mal took a sip to avoid saying anything else. She immediately lowered the cup, having scalded her tongue.

"Sorry, love," the elderly woman said. "Might want to wait till it cools."

Mal nodded, trying to make herself cold and regal, like her mother. "Who are you?"

"Mrs. Potts, dearie," the elderly woman said.

"Ben," the prince said.

Mal fought to keep a smile off her face. She was exactly where she needed to be.

"What's your name?" the prince asked.

"Maleficent," she lied. "But I prefer Mal."

"I see," Mrs. Potts said, exchanging an infuriating glance with Prince Ben. "Well, just drink your tea and we'll get you cleaned up soon enough."

Mal nodded, ignoring Prince Ben's continued stare. It was as if he couldn't take his eyes off of her. Despite everything her cold, cruel heart should have been telling her, she thought it was sweet.

 _What in all the land do they have you drinking?_ She asked herself.

Prince Ben then stood. "I'm sorry, but I have to leave to attend to my guests."

"Is there a party tonight?" Mal asked, barely restraining her panic and desperation.

"Not for another week, but the guests are still arriving, some are even from Agrabah!" he said excitedly. "If you need to stay for that long, we'd be happy to invite you."

"I do," Mal said, perhaps a tad too eagerly. Relief surged through her veins.

"Then we'd be happy to have you, Mal," Ben said with a smile that gave her a warm and fuzzy feeling for no real reason.

She leaked a weak version of her smile and looked down to her tea as he exited. Mrs. Potts smiled and turned to Mal.

"I have some duties to get to, but just stay here and drink your tea, dearie," she said. "I'll be back with warm clothes and I'll take you to the baths. You'll love it, it was Belle's greatest innovation."

Mal smiled again as Mrs. Potts turned to exit into the main kitchens. It unfurled into a truly wicked smile. All was going according to plan.


	3. Be Our Guest

Princess Evangeline stepped out into the grand dining hall. Lights, music, the works, it was all at once. She was dazzled by it all. She'd heard of the legendary service in King Adam and Queen Belle's castle, and it had more than lived up to expectation. Lumiere, the host of it all, was up front singing and dancing with the other servants, and he appeared to be delighted.

Evangeline scanned the table for the name card and reluctantly sat across from a young man named Jadon who looked to be from Agrabah and between Princess Talia of the Feyrelands and Princess Guinevere, Prince Benedict's younger sister.

Guinevere smiled warmly. "Is this your first time at the castle?"

"Clearly," Talia said haughtily, looking down at her polished pink fingernails.

"Yes," Evangeline said, holding her head up high. "I've heard of the service."

"Is is as good as you hoped it would be?" Guinevere asked.

"Better."

"Don't worry, the food will come soon, my brother's just running a bit behind, and then either my parents or he will make the welcoming speech," Guinevere whispered with a conspiratorial grin. Evangeline couldn't help but smile back.

"It's not that special," Talia muttered. "The good stuff is never served on the first night."

"Ah, Talia, you just can't be impressed anymore," Guinevere said good-naturedly.

"So you've been here before?" Evangeline asked, trying to start a friendly conversation.

"Of course I have!" Talia cried. "With how close our kingdoms are? It would be an international scandal not to!"

She leaned in closely. "I've just come this time to pay respects to my friend and to cement my place as his fiancée."

"You're engaged?"

Guinevere gave a very unladylike snort. "Not fiancée yet. But my brother probably will choose her. They've been friends since we were all in diapers. He's willing to marry for the kingdom, if not for love."

Talia smirked and sipped at the water in her pristine glass goblet.

* * *

Ben paced back and forth outside Mal's room. He planned on escorting her in as his "special guest" in hopes that it would alleviate the confusion and snuff out any rage that a non-noble would be there. Belle and Adam accommodated the request without much complaint.

"We'd better," Adam had said. "Everyone here knows the trouble with fairies."

That hadn't made Ben feel any better about this strange fairy whose life he saved. He felt a stranger attraction towards her. He'd seen that face in his dreams. Something was off about her. What it was, he didn't know.

He doubled back, only to stop abruptly as Mal's door opened.

She stepped out, prettier than Ben had ever expected. Beautiful, even. Her violet curls tumbled over her shoulders and she wore a pleasant pale blue-green gown that accented her eyes well. Her expression softened when she saw him.

"You look. . . Great," he said, and he offered her his arm. She reluctantly took it, and they walked down to the dining hall.

"Thank you," she whispered.

* * *

"There he is," Guinevere said. Talia sat up straight, her deep indigo eyes on the prince-and more specifically, the girl with him. She was no princess, but she was a fairy, as she could tell by that hair. Those long violet curls.

_Why didn't you ask me to be your special guest?_ Talia wondered, forcing her regal mask to stay in place. _I've never even seen this fairy before!_

The fairy sat at Ben's side, just close enough for Talia and Evangeline to see and talk to. Ben remained standing and the Hall went silent.

"Friends and esteemed guests," Ben began. "I welcome you to the Dauphin Castle of Auradon. I appreciate the travel and troubles you went to to be here in time for my little party."

Excited whispers fluttered down the dining hall. Talia smirked. Ben's birthday gala. . . It would be a night to remember. Talia was sure of that much.

"Thank you to those who have arrived, and I hope we get to know each other well in the coming days. To friendship!" Ben raised his goblet in a toast. The others raised theirs, and the toast echoed around the hall. Ben sat, and servers rushed out, carrying trays of food. Talia was unimpressed. The castle was clearly saving all the best for Ben's birthday. Which was as it should have been-she did not know why the others around her were gaping like common idiots.

Especially Evangeline. The daughter of the Fairest was odd. Something was off about her. What it was, Talia did not know yet, but she had her ways. She definitely was as pretty as the rumors stated. Prettier, even. That made her a threat. Talia would keep one eye on the princess. The other would be on the mysterious fairy.

* * *

Mal had to admit, she was completely unprepared for dining at Auradon. She was dazzled by it all, but she couldn't shake the nervous feeling that she would be found out any second. After all, Ben still had that look about him, like he could read her mind. Never mind that it would be impossible.

Queen Belle was observant, she knew that from what was generally said when the peasants were spouting poetry practically about her. That made her brown eyes staying on Mal a sign of danger. If she suspected Mal's true nature, her true motives. . . Game over.

Yet there was something in Ben's smile, the same quality mirrored within his mother, that made her feel that same warm and fuzzy feeling deep within.

"Try the gray stuff," Belle suggested. "It's the best dish."

Mal nodded, doing so, taking care to mirror the mannerisms of Princess Talia. She remembered seeing that pink nightmare whenever the Feyrelands renewed the Concord between the Moors and the kingdom. Not that the princess recognized her, it seemed.

_Good_.

She had to admit, Queen Belle had good taste. It was the best food she'd had in weeks. She'd no idea that she was famished. Now that she'd thought about it, the last few months blurred together, into one hungry, painful, cold agony. Why hadn't she done anything about that?

_Because it was the only way to achieve his- **your** goals_, she reminded herself.

"So is this your first time?"

Mal looked to her left to see a young man with shiny long black hair and light brown skin who seemed uncomfortable in the stiff Agrabah military uniform.

"Yes," she admitted. "Yours too?"

"Naturally," he said. "It is such a long journey. I'm Jadon, the Grand Vizier and Magician in training."

"I see," Mal said. "Mal. Fairy. I guess."

"I guess you would be," the very pretty girl next to Princess Guinevere said. "What is it like? Can you fly?"

"I can't, not yet," Mal admitted, blushing furiously. "I don't have any wings."

"Pity," the pretty princess said. "I'd love to ask more about magic. Maybe you could visit my chambers? I'm Princess Evangeline, by the way."

"Not Snow White's daughter?"

Evangeline seemed to shrink, almost. "Yes."

"Interesting," Mal said, more to herself than anyone else.

* * *

It was afterward that Queen Belle sat in her study with the rest of her family. She was silent, not something completely unusual, for the queen often was when she was innovating the latest method to improve the lives of her subject. She was more troubled by her train of thought, and no doubt it showed.

The girl was a fairy, and those were always suspected around Dauphin Castle. Her timing was so close to the investigation into the Moors. This girl was a suspect.

Belle glanced back up at her son. He sat closer to the window and seemed to be drifting off. Something about him had changed, and she knew it to be no spell. Rather, it seemed to be infatuation.

She smiled, happy for her son. She had been wrong about so many people before. Maybe she would be wrong about this fairy. She hoped she was.


	4. Mirror Mirror

Mal was already bored. She had risen promptly to see the sun rise, heaven knew why, and had re-read the lore book she'd stolen from her mother. She knew the prince was busy. She wanted to avoid Mrs. Potts. The woman was uncanny and it frightened Mal. The woman could discover her mission and then everything would be over.

She briefly remembered the princess with blue-black hair at the welcoming feast. Princess Evangeline said she wanted to see her again. Why shouldn't Mal oblige? Smirking, Mal threw off the white night shift and tugged over her head a white blouse and blue dress over it. She ran a quick comb through her hair and glanced at herself in the mirror. She had to look somewhat neat, unfortunately. To her disgust, she realized she looked like a younger Queen Belle. She sighed, thinking it could not be helped and she'd take whatever clothes she could, and laced up her ankle boots. She then headed out into the corridors.

It was large and grand, mostly in the Baroque style, as Princess Talia had snootily informed her over the feast. Mal had to admit it looked good. . . _For a den of light_. She hurried to the guest wing. For some reason, she had been stashed in a tower close to the royal family. _Fools_ , Mal thought, smirking widely.

The walk included a brief outdoor passage. She couldn't help but look down at the ground and feel a surge jealousy. She would never get to fly, like her mother. She, like her father whenever he wasn't a raven, was constrained to the ground. Maleficent had always told her that she was better off having her feet on the ground and her head away from the clouds. She forced herself to look up instead. She could not afford to fail her master with thoughts such as these.

It was difficult, navigating the guest wing. The only sense she could make to the order was that those who had arrived from the same kingdom had rooms right near each other. For instance, the Grand Vizier in-training, Jadon, was next to Prince Aziz's room as well as the ambassador Schezeraide.

Still, Mal was eventually able to find the Princess's room and knocked.

Immediately the door was flung open and Princess Evangeline snatched Mal's wrist and half-dragged the fairy into her chambers, then slammed the door behind the two of them. She turned and looked to Mal, an incandescent smile on her face.

"You use magic!" she cried. "I've been waiting for someone else who uses magic! Come on!"

"What? What's going on?" Mal asked.

"I'd like a teacher." Evangeline said. "Or even someone to just talk about magic with."

"I see," Mal murmured. She sat down on one of the cushy chairs. "I'm not sure I'll be around long enough to teach you."

"Could you at least teach me a decent hair charm?" Evangeline begged. "I need to look my best for the gala."

"I can," Mal ventured cautiously. "But why would the next Fairest need to be prettied up for some prince's gala."

"You're kidding, right?" Evangeline demanded, looking horrified. "This isn't just any gala Mal! This is the biggest gathering of royals in sixteen years! People from all around the realm have come to see Prince Benoit and his debut! Princes and princesses of all sorts will be in that gala. And I have my sights on a prince."

There was fire in those perfect dark eyes. She had the same determination and ambition that Mal saw within herself. She liked seeing it in some princess that was decidedly not prissy or pink.

"Any specific prince?" Mal asked.

"Oh, any will do!" Evangeline giggled. That spark was gone. Evangeline looked just like the traditional storybook princess. All smiles and sunshine with none of the interesting parts. It made Mal feel almost sad for Evangeline, that a princess with such fire would spend her entire life maybe trying to hide it for the sake of the ideal maiden.

"I've got a few," Mal said.

* * *

Ben and Guinevere were sampling the treats that the Chef had considered safe to reveal when Lumiere, looking most annoyed and distressed, approached.

"Princess Talia of the Feyrelands wishes to speak with you," Lumiere said.

"I'll get it," Ben said, dumpling his sister's auburn curls.

She grinned and smoothed her hair. Ben forced a smile on his face. From Lumiere's expression, he could tell that whatever Talia had come to him for, it was not good. Not at all. He knew just how to handle the princess's moods. They were as different as sun and moon. He was one of the few that had seen her sing with birds and smile at the summer sunshine. But he knew all too well her cold, moody side. One that seemed to have taken hold as they grew older.

He exited the kitchen and entered one of the sitting rooms nearby. There, perched neatly and prettily was a beautifully angry Talia.

"Princess, is there something wrong?" he asked.

She rose to her feet, her violet eyes as cold as ice. "Why did you invite that fairy as your special guest? You don't even know her, do you?"

Ben blinked. "I rescued her yesterday. I thought she-"

"You and I both know the likelihood of an engagement," she hissed. "So why does she get special treatment?"

"Aren't you familiar with Dauphin's history?" Ben asked, spreading his arms wide to indicate the castle. "My father was cursed by a fairy. We will not disrespect any guests ever again."

"What, one little fairy, and suddenly we're all scared?" Talia cried. "If there's anything that I have learned from my mother is that all fairies are really are little harmless pixies."

"Unless they're Maleficent?" Ben asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yes, her." Talia rolled her eyes. "It will not happen again, right?"

"If it will make you happy, princess." He kissed her hand. "I have other matters to attend to."

* * *

"Thanks," Evangeline said, stroking her midnight blue hair. "It's so lush!"

She looked at Mal via the reflection in her vanity. "I've never had a friend like you before."

"I wouldn't really call us friends yet-"

"Then you are a friend I haven't truly met yet," Evangeline said stubbornly.

"Do you really think all the world is full of is friendship?" Mal scoffed.

"Yes," Evangeline said. "Those who matter will be my friends. Those who don't won't."

"That's really optimistic," Mal said. Yet her dark heart was touched by the princess's happiness. A part of her longed to be that way. But she was evil now, and as far as she knew nothing could change that.

Before either girl could say anything else, there was a knock on the door. Mal rose to answer it. The door swung open to reveal Prince Ben.

"Your Majesty," Evangeline cried, and she curtsied elegantly. Mal just bobbed. She'd never really been the sort of fairy that liked all the court rituals. Even her mother tolerated them, mostly because she benefitted well from the, and enjoyed drama more than she liked to admit.

"I was wondering if you ladies would like to be invited to tea with the queen and I?" he asked. His steely blue eyes were focused on Mal. Evangeline caught this, and gave a sunshiny smile.

"I'm afraid I need to study," she said. "Mama said I'm dreadfully behind and only let me come on the condition that I studied. But Mal can go!"

She gently pushed Mal forward towards Ben.

He grinned brilliantly, and Mal had to admit that part of her felt a strange gravity, an attraction between them. He offered his arm, and she accepted.


	5. Belle de Paris

Mal entered the largest library she had ever seen. It seemed endlessly full of books. For the first time, she could not deny that she was impressed. _All the knowledge. . ._ It was tempting, to say the least. She steeled herself. It was time to formally meet the Queen. If she messed this up, she messed their entire plan up.

 _Keep it together,_ she told herself. _You're stronger than your mother ever was._

Ben pulled a chair out for her, and she gingerly sat down. He sat beside her, and Princess Guinevere was on her other side, leaving just Belle's clever hazel eyes trained on her.

"It was so nice of you to invite your new friend, Ben," Belle said. "Malory, dear, would you like some tea?"

"Um, sure," Mal said. She did not bother to correct her. After all, that would make her name drop just a little more impressive.

"Coming right up," Belle said with a smile. "It's such a nice name, Malory. Is it after Sir Thomas Malory?"

"Maybe if you reminded me who he was I'd be able to tell," Mal said, taking her tea cup.

"He was the last Knight of the Round Table, knighted by King Arthur with one purpose- to write down his legend," Belle explained. "Adam and I, well, we've always loved the Legend of King Arthur."

"Hence my name," Guinevere said, rolling her identical hazel eyes. She took a sip of her tea, and gestured for Mal to do the same. She copied, and found herself enjoying the brew. It did not need any sugar (not that Mal was the type of fairy that liked sweet things) and tasted perfectly fine without milk. It had objectively met all of her standards.

"I think I was, then," Mal lied. She had to admit, Malory would have been a much kinder name than Bertha.

"Interesting," Belle said. She had not drank from her tea yet. "Where did you come from?"

"Well, I've been travel-"

"Yes, yes," the queen interrupted. "But where from?"

"The Moors," Mal said, caving into the queen's persistence. There was no reason to withhold that information. Everyone knew fairies often came from the Moors, after all. That's what Maleficent and the Feyrelands were famous for.

"Have you heard about Bald Mountain?" Belle asked.

Mal felt suddenly very cold.

"What about Bald Mountain?" she asked.

"Monsters have been entering the kingdoms surrounding it," Belle said. "Why, King Phillip, Prince Florian, and Queen Ella have gone with the best of their Knights to discover the source."

"Oh, that," Mal said. "Then you understand what I have been on the road for. I wondered if something worse had happened."

"No, not yet," Belle said. "Although Ella has been gone for quite some time."

For a moment, Mal felt touched at the open expression of sadness and worry. Clearly they had been friends. Clearly what was happening worried Belle. She seemed genuinely worried for the fate of the people.

Snap out of it! You know better than this- even if people get hurt, you'll get glory and power and-

"Mal?"

"Sorry, what?" She realized she'd zoned out. Ben's steely blue eyes stared at her knowingly. They were piercing, as if he'd seen her thoughts.

"I asked if you had any family," Belle said gently. "And if you miss your home."

"My mother chose to stay," Mal said, the anger creeping into her voice. "And no, I don't miss it at all."

A tear dropped into her tea. Mal reached up to her face, and realized that she was crying.

"I know what it feels like," Belle said. There was empathy there. "Ben, Jenny, would you mind leaving? I promise, we'll pick up the tea in a few moments."

Guinevere opened her mouth to protest, but Ben took her hand and pulled her away from the table.

Belle's eyes met Mal's.

"My mother died alone. My father chose to leave her. She chose to stay there so I would not die of the plague," she explained. "I know that anger, too."

"I-"

Mal did not know what to say, so she said nothing. Belle was giving her that piteous smile, full of empathy and sadness and love-it made her feel both sick and warm inside. Belle placed her hand over Mal's tiny pale one.

"It gets better, I promise," she said. "Know that your mother and father loved you."

"What if they didn't?" Mal asked, her expression darkening.

"Then you will find a family that will," Belle assured her. "Adam found that."

"I appreciate your hopefulness, your majesty," Mal said, managing a small, genuine smile. She stood. "I'll get Ben and Guinevere. Do you mind if I excuse myself?"

"Not at all."

Mal rushed out to the second room of the library, where Ben and Guinevere were waiting.

"You can go back in," she said. She then started to continue onwards when Ben gently tapped her arm. She turned around, and found herself breathless at the sight of him.

 _Get it together. Love will be the end of all of it,_ she reminded herself. _He told you himself. Stay away from love._

"Why aren't you coming with us?" Ben asked.

"I've excused myself," she said airily. "It should be for family."

"Oh." He appeared to be looking for what to say next. Mal had to admit, she admired that honest, expressive face. So clear, no pretenses. Just the way Mal liked it.

"I hope you don't mind, your highness," she said. "Good day."

"Wait!"

Mal let out a frustrated sigh. She'd only taken one step away. She whipped around angrily. "What?"

He was not the slightest bit afraid of her, angry with her eyes glowing. "I want you to call me Ben. None of those other things."

What was that softness in her heart? She let herself smile genuinely. "I will, Ben. Thank you for your hospitality."

* * *

Guinevere was relieved to be released from the tea party. She loved her mother, but Belle had made it awkward. What had she told the fairy that she couldn't-or wouldn't-tell her own children? Besides, she now had a large selection of princes to dream about. She took her place in the gazebo, staring out at the lawn. A game of croquet was in the works.

Prince Aziz seemed rather taken with his ambassador, Schezarade. Prince James was insufferable, a prick that she thought more deserving of Talia than herself. He liked Talia well enough, but Guinevere he despised. Perhaps it was her more tomboyish hobbies or swordplay or gardening? She did not care enough to ask and thankfully he did not care enough to tell.

Princess Talia sat down next to her.

"When will Prince Ben join us?" she asked, waving her fan to conceal her mouth from the rest of the royals.

"He's busy," Guinevere said, keeping her eyes on the game.

Talia pouted. "He's always busy."

"He has to make sure the gala's a success," Guinevere replied evenly. "He wanted to make it his responsibility."

"He has servants for that," Talia said with a frown. "Nevertheless, his hands-on approach and responsibility certainly is attractive."

Guinevere shrugged. "I suppose."

"And it's much better for our kingdom's sake-"

"What about ours? I thought you were saving the proposal till the gala?" Guinevere asked, surprised, turning to look at Talia. Her simple auburn braid went flying over her shoulder, nearly hitting her in the face.

"I am, but I am planning for our future," Talia said solemnly. "I must be a queen, Guinevere. I may be a princess now, but one day I will be queen, and I must be ready for that day. Do you understand?"

"I thought you always said I was too young to understand," Guinevere teased.

"You are," Talia replied coldly as she fluttered her fan. "I don't know why I bother speaking of such things to you. You see things like your parents- romantic dreamers with no sense of the real world."

"I wouldn't exactly say they have no grasp on reality," Guinevere said, a growl creeping into her voice. "Look at Maman's inventions."

"Yes, I suppose they are rather useful," Talia said, looking at Guinevere as if she were stupid. "But her head is stuck in the clouds. I fear your brother may turn out the same way soon."

"You just said-"

"He barely reins it in, Guinevere," Talia informed her sharply. "His discipline is the only thing-"

Unable to take it anymore, Guinevere stormed away. She hated this about Talia- she was always so negative about others. Even when she tried to make the topic something she knew Talia liked, Talia found some way to use it to criticize someone.

She approached Princess Jane, the daughter of Queen Ella and King Christopher. She vaguely remembered her mother telling her to be nice since Queen Ella had gone with the search party and the party hadn't given a report back in a month.

"Hello Jane, nice day, isn't it?" Guinevere asked.

Startled, Jane whipped around her, sending her frumpy powder blue dress flying in a twirl. She curtsied, practically making her bob fly. "Your highness! I'm sorry, I didn't hear you approach-"

"I'm Jenny, remember?" Guinevere said gently. "No need to do this every visit! I promise, I'll always let you use my name if you let me use yours."

Still trembling, Jane nodded. She let her sweet smile come through. "Do you want to play a game of chess y- I mean, Jenny?"

"Yes, I would, Jane," Guinevere said. She sat down at one end of the tables set up. "How are magic studies going?"

"Well, Fairy Godmother's teaching me simple spells, levitation and the like," Jane said eagerly. "But what I really want her to teach me is the glamours and the transformations like what she did to my mother!"

"I can't wait till I see you wearing a gown as brilliant as the sun and dance the night away, breaking hearts," Guinevere offered, even though she personally could not see any possibility of it. Jane was pretty, but she was no heartbreaker. She was much too sweet for that. If she said something like that, Jane would accuse her of lying to her. For some reason, Jane had gotten it into her head that she was ugly. Of course, James, her twin brother, might have had something to do with that.

"Hey, Ugly Duckling, can you turn away?" James cried out. "I'm trying to see a nice view!"

Embarrassed, Jane ducked her head, trying to hide in her dress. Guinevere rose to her feet.

"Leave her alone!" Guinevere shouted, right at the same time as another girl- Princess Evangeline. The daughter of the Fairest marched over to Jane, embracing her.

"Come on, let's go to the powder room," Evangeline said gently, and she began escorting Jane out. Guinevere turned to James.

"What are your skirts in a twist for?" James demanded, at ease despite her storming nearer.

"Why are you so cruel to her?" Guinevere seethed.

"I'm not cruel, just honest," he replied, casually checking his spotless fingernails. "I don't see why everyone has to lie to her."

"We're not," Guinevere said.

"Believe whatever lies you tell yourself to sleep at night," James said. Before he could turn around, Guinevere punched him.


	6. The Fairest of Them All

Mal was surprised to see Evangeline escorting a crying princess into the powder room.

"Who's this?" she crooned.

"Princess Jane-Cinderella's daughter," Evangeline explained.

"I see," Mal murmured, allowing a smirk to creep up her full lips. "What happened?"

"Prince James called her an ugly duckling," Evangeline added. Jane burst into tears again, shoulders shaking.

"Really?" Mal said. "Hmm. . . I could do a few things for you. But you're Cinderella's daughter- can't her fairy godmother just Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo?"

"She said she'd teach me, but she hasn't yet," Jane sobbed.

"Well, then, maybe we could start with-"

"The hair!" Jane cried pleadingly. "Please, make it like yours!"

 _Her hair's actually very pretty_ , Mal thought. Nevertheless she pulled her spell book out of the pouch attached to the blue skirt. " _Beware, Forswear, give Jane new hair._ "

With a shower of pink sparkles, Jane now had long dark curls, like chocolate. She looked up in the vanity mirror and smiled.

"I- I look beautiful," she said. "Thank you! Now my hair distracts from my other features!"

Evangeline gave her a sad smile.

"It's no problem," Mal said. "Now run along."

Jane obeyed, practically leaping out. Mal looked to Evangeline.

"I must ask," she said. "Are the rumors true?"

"What rumors?" Evangeline asked.

"The ones about your mother," Mal said. "That you're not Snow White's daughter- you're her sister."

Evangeline's lip curled into a snarl, her eyebrows arched like bows ready to fire, her brown eyes fiery. She grabbed Mal's wrist, her painted fingernails beginning to dig into Mal's pale flesh.

"You cannot tell anyone!" she hissed. "Swear it!"

"You have my word as a fairy," Mal replied calmly.

Evangeline let go, satisfied.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Mal continued. "Why do you remain loyal to Snow White when you could get revenge?"

Evangeline's expression twisted into one of horror. "I'd never- She's my mother, as far as I'm concerned! Why would I want to?"

"She killed Grimhilde," Mal said. "Or at least, her friends did."

"And saved me from being raised by her," Evangeline countered. "And gave me a wonderful life as a princess and a sorceress. A happy and loving home. Do you think Queen Grimhilde would have given me any of that?"

"I was merely curious," Mal said. "I'm a fairy- we ask questions. Surely you aren't surprised."

Evangeline pressed her lips together. "I suppose not. But I love Snow White. Nothing could possibly change that."

"I see," Mal said. " _The memory is not for you to have, but for me to know, so you will forget that we talked about Snow_."

Evangeline blinked. "I'm sorry, were we talking about something?"

"Oh, nothing," Mal said, a deceptively sweet smile on her face. "Now come on, we'd better go out to the lawn before the next game of croquet starts."

"You're right," Evangeline said primly. "I'd bet I could beat you."

Mal raised her eyebrows. "I think you're wrong."

"We'll see," Evangeline said with her flirtatious laugh and a flip of her ocean-blue-black curls. She took Mal's hand and pulled her along. Mal laughed too, but found herself feeling guilty.

 _You have no room for guilt,_ Mal thought. _Get in, get out. That is all._

* * *

Guinevere looked to Jane and gasped. In place of her cute sleek bob was long pretty curls that almost resembled the fairy's hair. Guinevere rose.

"Jane, what happened?" Guinevere asked.

"Mal changed my hair for me," Jane said, her beautiful blue eyes bright. "I'm finally beautiful, Jenny."

"I always thought you were," Guinevere said in a quiet voice.

"But now everyone will see me as beautiful," Jane explained. "I won't be an ugly duckling anymore!"

"Who cares what they think?" Guinevere said, taking Jane's hand. "I think you're beautiful and brilliant just as you are! You're going to be a sorceress one day!"

"Do you think I look ugly this way?" Jane asked, her face petulant and childlike. A part of Guinevere's heart broke, but she forced herself to be honest.

"No, I don't."

A smile returned to her face, so rare for Guinevere to see. "Then that's settled."

She then practically skipped onto the lawn. Heads turned, and even James was speechless for once.

Guinevere sat down on her chair and sighed, placing her head in her hands. She did not understand, but if it made Jane happier. . . Then who was she to tell Jane how to be happy?

* * *

Ben stared out the large library window, watching the croquet game. He had to admit now, he was suspicious. There was something not quite right about the fairy. No matter what feelings he had, what his gift showed him, he had to confront her, confirm his suspicions. He knew he'd have to arrange a carriage into the Enchanted Forest. It was time to find out the truth about this fairy.

He walked into the elevator and waited for a few minutes as it descended. Then he crossed the lawn to where Mal was lining up a shot. He gave Talia an apologetic glance.

"Mal, would you like to ride out to the Enchanted Forest tomorrow?" Ben asked.

The fairy frowned, confused for a second. Then a slightly wicked smirk curled up her lips.

"Of course," Mal said before she hit the ball halfway across the lawn. "It would be my honor, Your Highness."

Ben smiled, and then walked away, hoping he wouldn't regret his decisions.


	7. Magic Spells and Fairytales

Mal could not believe her luck. She was being asked to go alone with the prince! Perhaps, she could use this to get him under her thumb. It was a tempting premise, so of course she accepted. _The lovesick fool._

* * *

That night, she dreamed.

_Her heart thudded in her chest as she ran through the forest. Fireballs soared through the sky and ash clouds blocked out the sun. Lava raced after her heels. She lifted her knees higher, swung her arms more quickly as she tried to outrun the fire. She had to get out, she had to survive even if the forest did not- she was the only hope._

_She stumbled over a rock, and the lava surrounded her. In an act of desperation, she shimmied up the bare brittle tree that was covered in the frost of a harsh winter. She jumped from tree to tree, only to hit the end of the tree line. She finally looked back at what she was running from._

_Her eyes widened as the shape of a bird cawed. She looked to beyond the tree line. A green forest nymph of some sort stared at her._

_"This is not who you are."_

_Before Mal could say anything, the firebird cawed again. She looked back as the fire consumed her and everything turned to black._

Mal's eyes flew open, and all she could do was take a few deep breaths. She felt as if her skin were burning. She sat up, unsure of where she was before recognizing the Dauphin Castle.

_This is not who you are._

The words echoed in her mind. Who else could she be? And why was her dream telling her that after she had met the prince in her dreams?

_It's telling you to be more. That you can be Maleficent, the master of evil that the original could never truly be. You were meant to be the new Maleficent. That is who you are. Not this pathetic fairy with doubts and feelings._

Mal nodded. That made more sense to her. It was her masters, reminding her what she had to become.

* * *

The next morning, before the sun even rose, she crept out of bed and knocked on Princess Evangeline's door. Even half-asleep, the princess was still lovely. Her temper, however, was not.

"Do you know what time it is?" she asked irritably.

"Do you?" Mal retorted.

"Five o'clock," Evangeline said. She then sighed. "Come in."

Mal snapped her fingers, and the torches lit themselves as she entered. She shut the door behind her.

"I need your help. Ben has asked me to go to the Enchanted Forest with him, and I need to look stunning," Mal said.

"You've got your eyes on a prince?" Evangeline said. "I thought he would be a bit low on the rankings for you."

"What do you mean?"

"The lowest fairy outranks the highest king or emperor," Evangeline said. "But never mind that. I'll help you. Just let me wear something suitable, and I'll find a suitable dress for you."

"Thank you, Evangeline," Mal said. She had to admit, she liked this princess. She was a classic, but she had a few darker tricks up her sleeves. She would excel in the new world coming.

"No problem," the princess answered as she put on a bluish green frock. "There, that's better. Now, for you."

Evangeline looked Mal up and down for a second, and even circled her. "I think more purple would wash you out, especially with that hair, but a nice green would bring out your eyes. I think I may have the perfect dress."

Mal raised her eyebrows as Evangeline flung open her wardrobe and almost immediately pulled out the exact dress she had pictured and set it on the bed. The skirt and sleeves were leaf-green, the bodice white, and it had flowers embroidered on the edge of skirt and along the collar. The sleeves were puffed, and Mal had to admit that it seemed almost familiar. Like something she would have worn before. . .

She shook her head, unsure of these thoughts that had no business in her cold heart. She looked back to Evangeline.

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you," she said. "I'll do your hair as well. I picked some matching flowers the other day. It was like I somehow knew this would happen before it did."

"I guess so," Mal murmured. She took the dress and changed into it. It fit comfortably and she looked beautiful in it. She sat down at the vanity as Evangeline ran a brush through it.

"It'll look beautiful, I promise," she said. She braided it out of the way, with the flowers locked in. It made Mal feel like an average fairy- not something she or the voices in her head wanted, but it felt familiar and safe.

"We're done," Evangeline said.

"Thank you," Mal said, and she realized that if she went through with her plans, this kind girl would suffer for it. She didn't really know anyone good, anyone who would've been affected by her master's plans. Now she did, and a part of it hurt. She did not want Snow White's daughter to pay for being kind to her.

"Are you alright?" Evangeline asked.

"Just nervous," Mal lied.

"You'll have fun," Evangeline assured me. "Prince Ben is a good man. You have to tell me what happens from here."

"I will," Mal promised. "You've been a very good friend to me. The Fair Folk do not forget such acts of kindness."

Evangeline smiled. "You're sweet. You don't have to do a thing- Mama taught me that strangers are just the friends you haven't met yet, and that you ought to give any and all friends in need a helping hand."

"That sounds like Snow White," Mal said. She stood up. "I will see you when we get back."

Evangeline waved as Mal left the room.

* * *

Adam paced the study once more, and Belle stood at the window, her face in her hands.

"Our son went off alone with the strange fairy," Adam moaned. "I know we taught him better than that."

"He's in love with her," Belle said. "I can tell. A mother can always tell."

"That makes this even worse," Adam said. "Love is blind, as the books always say."

"I know," Belle said. She steeled herself and took deep breaths. "Maybe we should think positively about this."

"Like what?" Adam sounded genuinely curious.

"We always worried that Ben wouldn't be happy if he only married for politics like he planned," Belle said. "If he's managed to find love in that time- then he could be happy, Adam."

"That would be nice," Adam admitted. "And I suppose Agathe will be watching him. She promised to."

"She'd better," Belle muttered.. "What else are fairy godmothers useful for?"

Adam laughed, and hugged his wife.

* * *

Mal glanced out at the window. She felt a peace with the world when she saw the forest. She didn't understand entirely why. Maybe it was the fairy in her. Maybe it wasn't. But she could almost remember flowers blooming from her hands instead of withering at her very touch.

"Are you alright?" Ben asked, drawing her out of her reverie.

"Yes," Mal said. "I love the outdoors."

He nodded. Mal was surprised at herself. For once, she did not lie. _Apparently goody-goodies are contagious._

* * *

Guinevere and Jane sat in Mrs. Potts' lounge outside the kitchen. Jane brought her spellbook with her and was looking over them.

"I can't find the one that Mal used," Jane admitted.

"You don't think. . ." Guinevere said, her heart pounding against her chest.

"That it could be a bad spell?" Jane asked. "I've worried about that too."

"What do you think?" Guinevere said.

"I think that we should wait until the gala is over to confront her," Jane said. "Bad fairies are very bad, you know. That's why Mother went to Bald Mountain."

"Because of the monsters?" Guinevere asked. "Excuse me, but your mother never knew fencing, did she?"

"No," Jane admitted. "She thought she could befriend the monsters, or at least find some peaceful situation. She said she also had one more trick up her sleeve if something went terribly wrong. She said the mice would help."

"But mice can't talk," Guinevere pointed out.

"I don't think Mother knows that," Jane admitted.

"Here are your teas, dearies," Mrs. Potts interrupted, carrying large steaming mugs for the two princesses. "Jane, are you working on your spells again? Because your hair looks lovely like that."

"Mal did this for me," Jane said, blushing and twirling a curl around her finger.

Mrs. Potts frowned. "I'm sure she's a good girl, deep down, but I don't think she's telling the entire truth."

"About what?" Guinevere asked.

"Did you know she tried to introduce herself to Ben and I as Maleficient?" Mrs. Potts said. "I didn't want to tell the poor dearie that I've met Maleificent. They looked similar, but she's too young to be that fairy, I'm afraid."

"She what?" Guinevere's jaw dropped. "Jane, we need to find Mal, now. Thank you for the tea, Mrs. Potts!"

"Make sure to take the mugs with you!" Mrs. Potts reminded them.

* * *

Ben and Mal left the carriage behind quite a ways. They were out by the Wishing Lake. Mal had never been. She liked the crystal-blue waters running over the heart-shaped river stones, and the viney flowers trailing up and down the stone pillars surrounding the worn rock circle they stood on in the middle of the lake. Ben had the foresight to bring a picnic basket with them.

Mal sat down and removed her shoes, dipping her toes in the water.

"We need to talk," Ben said, taking a deep breath.

Mal turned, looking into his brownish-green eyes. He looked like the classic Prince Charming, Mal supposed. He had golden brown hair, a sunny smile, and green eyes that seemed to stare right through you.

"What about?" Mal asked.

"At my christening, the Enchantress was invited as my fairy godmother," Ben began. "She gave me a gift, like the three fairies gave Aurora gifts."

Mal nodded. She was familiar with such boons.

"It was the gift of Clarity, she called it," Ben said. "I can look into the heart of anyone I choose to, and I can see what is truly there."

"And what's in my heart?" Mal asked, trying to hide her fear. She was about to be found out.

"I see a lot of darkness," he admitted. "But there's a light deep down, cutting through the rest. I want to know who you really are, no lies."

* * *

Guinevere and Jane entered Mal's room, the same room that Belle had occupied in her famous stay in the castle.

"She's gone," Jane said.

Guinevere realized with a start that she had not seen her older brother at all that morning. "She's got Ben, Jane! We have to tell our parents what Mrs. Potts told us! Ben could be in danger!"


	8. Ever After

And that was where the written story ends," the storyteller admitted with a shy, small smile.

She watched him with eyes wide, rapturous and shining like the diamonds around her neck. "But that can't be the end of the story, can it? What about Mal and Ben? What about Guinevere, about Jane? There was so much left unknown. . ."

She looked off into the city lights, distant below them. If the storyteller squinted, the lights became just like the stars above them, until they were just her and him surrounded by an entire galaxy meant just for them. She tugged at her white silk gloves, the ring worn on the outside a reminder of the obligation that was awaiting them when they returned to the party.

The storyteller slipped the ornate book into the satchel that hung slung over his head and shoulders, to prevent thievery. For even though he had ben assured by many that because of his ratty clothes and well-darned satchel that no one would be interested in stealing its contents, the storyteller knew that the contents were irreplaceable and were more valuable than anything, save perhaps love and dreams.

But what else cultivates both like a good story?

The storyteller had learned his craft from his grandmother, who had taken on the family post as the chronicler of such moving stories.

He knew that as soon as the story was over, they would have to go back inside and face the truth that they could never be.

He wasn't ready yet to let go.

And he could see from the way that she hesitated that she wasn't ready to leave yet, either.

"I could use my skills, as the Chronicler of the Realm, to put to speech where the ink ran out, my lady." He was too forward, to meet her diamond eyes.

And yet she met them all the same, a yearning within that matched his own, one that mirrored the million regrets he knew all too well when facing down the bottom of a bottle or his own pillow.

"As you wish." He looked out to the city skyline, searching for the words, the words that could perhaps let them both stay in this limbo, this enchantment, forever.

"Mal, the girl? She confessed who she truly was. A fairy, the daughter of Maleficent, who had been corrupted by the evil spirit that lived in the mountain that shadowed over all of the kingdoms. Her confession, and true love's kiss from Prince Ben was enough to break the corruption. She was herself again—and she knew she had to stop the evil spirit."

She seemed thoughtful at that. Perhaps if the Storyteller had been braver, if he had made himself clearer sooner, perhaps the spell over his beloved would have been broken before it was too late.

Unfortunately, the time for a last chance had long since come and gone.

The Storyteller continued forward.

"Well, of course, Princess Guinevere, Princess Jane, and Princess Evangeline were not the sorts to stay there and wait—they joined Prince Ben and the Fairy Mal up Bald Mountain, running into their parents, the ones who had gone after the spirit corrupting their kingdoms and causing trouble. There, they tried to fight the great daemon Chernabog, who lived atop Bald Mountain."

She shuddered at the name, and indeed the Storyteller felt as if the night had grown far colder for his bravado and daring in speaking the daemon's name. But tying the last scraps of magic to the realm had long since been the Storyteller's job.

"What happened next?" Her voice trembled slightly—but there was a courage that he had not seen since before her dreaded fiancé came along.

"They thought they would lose," the Storyteller admitted. "They almost did. But it was Cinderella who saved the day."

There was a small, knowing smile on her lips, a blush to the cheeks. "Of course it was—Cinderella was always my favorite story, growing up. But I suppose you knew that, didn't you?"

The Storyteller smiled, in spite of himself and his secret duty. Of course he did. Of course he knew her, better than he knew himself, he sometimes dared to think.

"She had always been able to speak and she had summoned the great mouse wizard who helped oversee the realm, the great Sorcerer Yen Sid's apprentice." He wove together more stories, seamlessly, with a mere intonation, an incantation far more accessible than Latin, and far more flexible, more universal. "He was able to put things right with his magic hat."

"Well, then what happened?"

"I suppose what happens in every story." The Storyteller traced the iron railing in its elegantly curled shape, more a wok of art than a barrier for the humans who dared to go out to the roof, to commune with the sky. "They went home and lived happily ever after. Of course, some say that they may be living still, not too far from here."

She regarded him with a new emotion in her eyes, one that he couldn't entirely read. "That was a good story,you know."

"Thank you—I live to write," he said, a bitter humor in his voice and sardonic smile. There was more truth to that than either of them would ever dare to say.

For a moment, the world was quiet. They were too far up to hear the city life, and they were outside and thus couldn't hear the party. Instead, it was just them, the wind, and the stars.

"Where will you go?" Her voice turned pleading. "What will you do, come tomorrow?"

The Storyteller patted his pocket, which had been clumsily restitched on more times than he'd care to admit. "I leave on the express tomorrow. Perhaps I will discover more of Scheherazade's manuscripts like this one. Perhaps I will learn more about the ancient version of the world we live in."

"Do you believe in these stories? In magic, in true love?"

"Of course I do."

Their eyes met. And he knew that one train ticket would no longer be enough.

She took the ring off and cast it into the streets before taking the Storyteller's hand.


End file.
